‘Don’t go ruining their big moment, darling,’ Moses scolded gently.
‘I’m only waiting to say hello,’ Sofia replied, peering over at Bridget as if searching for a ring from twenty yards away.
‘You can say hello inside,’ Mum said, having flung the door open that second. ‘Why are you all hovering on the doorstep like salesmen?’
She stood back to let us into the stone-flagged entrance hall. ‘Moses, my second son.’ She kissed him European style before letting him through. ‘Singing beautifully this morning, as always. Emma. You look tired. Are you sure you’re not anaemic? A good spoonful of beef stufato will put colour back in your cheeks.’ She patted said cheeks as I walked past.
‘Mum, these are what Irish cheeks look like. We didn’t all inherit your Mediterranean complexion. And I’m tired because I’ve been working flat out all week.’
‘Now, Bridget!’ She had already moved on to the next sister. ‘Paolo! Church was so quiet without you. I hope it wasn’t your bowel problems again.’
‘I told you it wasn’t!’ I called back from the doorway into the enormous kitchen. ‘Oh, hi, Dad.’
‘Emma.’ My dad, who had been taking champagne flutes out of the dresser, put them down and came to give me a hug. ‘How are ye now, my best girl?’
I leant into the warmth of his enormous chest, my head snuggling several inches below his beard. My father was not called ‘Bear’ for nothing. Breathing in the familiar scent of wool, woodsmoke and the faintest hint of turpentine, I blinked back the sudden prickle of tears. ‘I’m fine.’
And I was – I was always fine, tucked inside his giant arms. ‘You guessed, then?’
‘Paolo came over last week to ask for my blessing. He might not do things fancy, that lad, but he does them right.’
‘Does Mum know?’
‘She’s trying really hard to pretend she doesn’t.’
‘She could have picked a less embarrassing ruse than Bridget’s dodgy stomach.’
‘And since when did your mamma understand the meaning of embarrassment?’
We breathed together for a few moments, ignoring the chatter and laughter drifting in from the living room.
‘Are you sure you’re okay, now? It’s been a grand arrangement, you girls sharing the flat together. I know you’ll miss her something fierce. And, well, it’s not expected, the eldest being last.’
‘Sure, and, as Bridget said, it’s hardly surprise news, is it? I’m thrilled for her.’ I frowned against his bobbly old jumper. ‘Possibly more thrilled than she is. Honestly, I’m fine. It’s not like we have a limited allocation of family weddings per year, and she’s taken mine.’
‘All right, then. Let’s not keep them waiting any longer.’
While I didn’t have a Sam, or a Moses, or a Paolo, with Bear Donovan’s rough hand in mine, I knew I would always be loved, utterly and unconditionally, and that was mighty fine indeed.
* * *
Due to patchy Internet connection, we made contact with Annie over dessert, the remains of dinner still sprawled across the oak dining table that Dad handcrafted after the twins had been born.
‘Show me the ring!’ she squealed through the laptop screen. ‘Not from there, up close. Move the screen if you can’t get any nearer.’
‘Was there anybody who didn’t know about this proposal?’ Paolo grumbled behind his spoon of blackberry crumble.
‘I think it’s a twin thing,’ I said.
‘You’ve been a hanger-on to this family for twenty years,’ Orla retorted, her four-year-old, Oscar, sitting on her knee while he scraped the remains of the custard jug into his bowl with rapt concentration. ‘Don’t pretend you didn’t know what you were getting into, little brother.’
‘Please don’t call me that ever again.’ Paolo grinned.
He ran a hand through his blond shock of hair and straightened his shirt before moving his chair closer to the screen. Even though Annie lived three thousand miles away, Paolo knew that for Bridget, having her twin’s approval was everything.
‘Where is he, then?’ Annie’s eyes darted across the screen, until she spotted Paolo waving.
‘I like how your first priority was the ring,’ he joked.
